


SASO 2017 Fills: Various Haikyuu!! Pairings

by Marks



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Breaking Up & Making Up, Caught, Dragons, F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Reunions, SASO 2017, Smoking, Training Camp, Zombie Apocalypse, fake ids, in the club, rickrolling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 18:55:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 12,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11950548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: Throwing up the rest of my short SASO fills. Chapter titles include the pairings and ratings for each ficlet!





	1. Kurotsuki, T, Making up

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote so many Tsukkiyama and Kagetsuki fills that I made works just for them. Kagetsuki fills can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11951607) and Tsukkiyama fills can be found [here](My).

**Pairing** : Tsukki/Kuroo  
**Word count** : 636 words  
**Rating** : T  
**Prompt** : Panic! at the Disco's "Death of a Bachelor" and "The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty"  
**Tags** : mention of alcohol, future fic, breakups and makeups, sap 

Tsukishima isn't going to look at him. He has no interest, so why would he bother? The table's plenty interesting – the direction of the wood grain alone, and that's not even factoring in the woven placemat or his empty plate.

Fuck.

Tsukishima looks up. Kuroo's leaning over the bar, grinning at the bartender. She's cute, too, not exactly Tsukishima's type but probably Kuroo's, who knows? It doesn't seem like Kuroo's noticed him there, which is good because he's eating alone and staring at someone he used to play volleyball with. Yamaguchi's voice is suddenly inside his head: _Playing volleyball, Tsukki? Is that what we're calling it now?_

He almost, almost laughs to himself at that, but he's already being creepy enough. The bartender laughs at something Kuroo says and touches his wrist, right where his sleeve's pulling back a little. Tsukishima wonders if that sliver of skin is still as warm as it used to be; he'd liked touching it because he could do it quickly without others noticing and pull away before Kuroo even registered the touch. Kuroo grins widely at the bartender, and that's it. That's all Tsukishima can take. He picks up his phone and starts scrolling through his SNS, just so he doesn't feel so pathetic.

A waiter comes over after a couple of minutes and plunks down something fizzy and pink, a red and white paper umbrella poking out of the top of the glass.

"I didn't –"

"From the gentleman at the bar," the waiter says, and he says _gentleman_ sarcastically, so Tsukishima knows for sure it's from Kuroo. Who else could make a waiter sound like Tsukishima's own personality cloned itself into the wait staff through sheer force of will? And Tsukishima, contrarian that he is, considers for just a second stalking across the room and throwing the drink in Kuroo's stupid handsome face, umbrella and all. Maybe punching it for good measure, the way he wanted to when Kuroo broke up with him, only that fight happened over the phone. He was seventeen and Kuroo said Tsukishima could have fought a little harder for them, so he did the opposite and gave up. But they were long-distance and that's hard even for people who don't have to work hard to work hard, like him.

Instead, Tsukishima takes a drink, then raises his glass to Kuroo at the bar. Kuroo doesn't come over, but he's way too happy and that turns Tsukishima's insides to mush. He finishes his drink, calls the waiter over, and slides him a piece of paper to give Kuroo on his way out.

*

The knock at the door later that night isn't entirely unexpected but Tsukishima jumps up anxiously at the sound. He'd left his phone number and address with the waiter, and if it had been him in Kuroo's place, he would have texted, if he ever did anything at all. Which is one reason it's good that Kuroo isn't him.

"Hey," Kuroo says, when Tsukishima opens his apartment door. Tsukishima expected him to pose in the doorframe or look cocky, but all he does is take Tsukishima's face in his hands and kiss him as he pushes his way inside the apartment. Tsukishima closes his eyes and kisses back, wrapping his fingers around Kuroo's wrists as Kuroo kicks the apartment door closed again. 

Everything after that is like breathing. They pick up again where they left off, leaving clothes in a messy trail from the door to Tsukishima's bed. Everything's the same, only different. Their stamina's a little better now, and when Kuroo breathes, "Kei," in his ear, Tsukishima really wishes he'd fought harder for them back then. But tomorrow's another day, and there are a hell of a lot of tomorrows after that, and Kuroo's still there when Tsukishima wakes up.


	2. Kurodai, M, Captains Hiding at Training Camp

**Pairing** : Kuroo/Sawamura  
**Word count** : 675 words  
**Rating** : M  
**Prompt** : Walk the Moon, "Avalanche" and Carly Rae Jepsen, "Cut to the Feeling"  
**Tags** : sexual content, getting caught doin' it 

Daichi catches Kuroo watching him during a meeting with the captains and coaches. It could just be one of those shared _when will this dude shut up_ looks as the Shinzen coach goes into his fourteenth minute about the purity of teamwork leading to natural male bonding, but more likely it's about another kind of natural male bonding.

Sure enough, as soon as the meeting lets out, Kuroo touches Daichi’s wrist and gives him another significant look. This is probably just a training camp thing, a way to blow off steam after days filled with matches and flying falls, but Daichi can't help the way his stomach takes a flying fall as he follows Kuroo through the halls.

“I found a good place,” Kuroo says, and Daichi thinks of the hallway where Ennoshita almost walked in on them, and the bathroom where Lev nearly got an eyeful. The problem with making out with another captain is someone's always looking for one of you. Well, that and the eternal rivalry. They go into a stairwell and walk up and up until Kuroo opens up the door to the roof. “After you,” he says, holding open the door and bowing low as Daichi goes past.

“Stop that,” Daichi says in a gruff voice, but he takes Kuroo shutting the door behind him and kissing him firmly as an apology.

When they pull apart, Daichi finally gets a good look at what Kuroo's done up here. He's thought to bring up a couple of blankets and a flashlight, and the view over the camp is definitely something. Daichi can just barely make out some of the guys running up and down the steep hills, more for fun than punishment in the cover of dark. 

"This is nice," Daichi says, and sits on the blankets, crooking one finger to beckon Kuroo over. "Did you really want to be alone with me that bad?"

Kuroo kneels down and crawls over, nudging Daichi until he's on his back and Kuroo can push his hands underneath his shirt. "Nah," Kuroo says. "I bring all the guys up here."

Daichi can almost see it, a never ending parade of captains, of Nekoma teammates, of suggestible first years, but Kuroo lets out a low laugh and shakes his head. 

"You should see your face, Sawamura," Kuroo says. "Yeah, I did this for you. But I'm gonna make you look like that again when I beat your ass sideways at Nationals."

That's not the ass talk Daichi wants to have right now, stretching up to capture Kuroo's mouth again and sliding his hands down Kuroo's back until he has two handfuls of the ass's ass in his hands. 

The slow pace they have up here with no one bothering them has its pluses and minuses. Daichi likes being able to kiss Kuroo slow and teasing, riling him up until his mouth is red and his cheeks are red and he's rocking back and forth against the blanket, urging "Come on, Daichi. Please."

That little bit of unexpected politeness nearly undoes Daichi right there, which would be embarrassing and that's the minus, so he urges Kuroo in between his legs and they scramble to push their shorts halfway down their legs. 

"Fuck, your thighs," Kuroo gasps, which in a hormone-driven haze Daichi thinks is a good suggestion for another time, really. They rock together, until Kuroo licks his palm and reaches down so he can stroke them both at the same time. Daichi comes while staring up at the stars, Kuroo's mouth hot against his throat. 

"Romantic," Daichi says after, and he wants it to come out teasing, but Kuroo's busy licking their mixed come off his fingers and it sounds like he means it. 

"I try," Kuroo says, and leans down to kiss Daichi again. "Nice to have a little privacy, though, isn't it?"

Daichi doesn't even get a chance to nod before Hinata and Kageyama tumble through the roof door, their argument turning into a thousand shocked apologies. He sighs heavily and orders them away.


	3. Bokuroo, M, NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP

**Pairing** : Bokuto/Kuroo  
**Word count** : 609 words  
**Rating** : T  
**Prompt** : never gonna give you up never gonna let you down  
**Tags** : sexual content, rickrolling, holding out 

Bokuto’s phone buzzes with a message, a link from Kuroo, which is suspect because Kuroo is sitting right next to him.

“This better not be the thing again,” Bokuto warns him.

“It’s not,” Kuroo says.

Bokuto narrows his eyes.

“It’s _not_!” Kuroo insists. “Come on. You know how it goes -- first time, shame on me; second time, shame on you. A third time isn’t even a thing.”

“Okay.” Bokuto unlocks his phone and, sure enough, the link’s text seems to indicate a volleyball video where two guys start kissing, which definitely is a thing Kuroo would send him and definitely _definitely_ is a thing Bokuto would be interested in seeing. He clicks on the link.

_NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN, NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND AND DESERT YOU_

Bokuto’s face is one of ultimate betrayal, and Kuroo laughs so hard he clutches his sides and falls over. 

“See if I ever get you off again,” Bokuto says, and throws his phone at Kuroo’s head.

*

A week later, Bokuto has made good on his promise and it’s _killing him_. Seriously, he feels like he’s come down with something, some sex-deprivation illness, and if he doesn’t let Kuroo get his hand on his dick soon, he’s probably going to curl up into a ball and just _die_.

Akaashi sighs. “You’re not going to die, Bokuto-san.”

“How do you know?” Bokuto wails. “How long have you ever gone without sex?”

“Uh,” says Akaashi, turning red. “Well, I turned seventeen right before nationals.”

Bokuto’s eyes go wide. “Really?” he says. “Wow. I never would have –“ He waggles his eyebrows. “Say, you wouldn’t be interested in –“

“No,” Akaashi says, shutting that line of conversation down quickly. “Just make Kuroo-san apologize and then everything will be fine again.”

Bokuto snorts. Tough luck with that. How did Akaashi make everything sound so _easy_? He puts his face in his hands and lets out a mournful, horny wail. The only easy thing here is Bokuto.

*

That night as he’s trying to fall asleep, he’s got a hand jammed inside his pajama pants, jacking himself with the cherry lube that smells maddeningly like Kuroo’s chapstick. He thinks about Kuroo’s callused fingers and Kuroo’s mouth and Kuroo’s ass and how Kuroo hasn’t even called to apologize, even though this is the longest they’ve gone without kissing or fucking in the whole time since they started doing whatever this thing is. Dating? It might be dating.

Argh! Bokuto is so mad! He squeezes his dick so hard that it almost hurts him, and he comes thinking about jizzing all over Kuroo’s laughing face. 

He feels a little better after, and that’s only because his imagination made sure a lot landed in Kuroo’s hair.

*

When Bokuto comes home from practice the next day, Kuroo’s waiting for him at his house. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days and when he spots Bokuto, he runs out to meet him on the front walk and spends way more time than socially acceptable feeling up Bokuto’s biceps. Well. He has been working on his guns pretty hard.

“I’m sorry!” Kuroo says, and he sounds like he’s either run a marathon or he’s turned on just from his proximity to Bokuto. “I promise I’ll never send you that stupid video again, please let’s just go in your house so I can blow you.” He licks his lips and everything, and when Bokuto leans in, his mouth smells like cherries.

Bokuto’s no idiot. He’s never gonna give this up if he doesn’t have to, and he grabs Kuroo by the sleeve and pulls him inside.


	4. Kurotsuki, T, Training Camp Club Outing

**Pairing** : Tsukki/Kuroo  
**Word count** : 894 words  
**Rating** : T  
**Prompt** : "not everything has to be dubstep" meme  
**Tags** : lying to kohai, fake ids, ridiculous concepts, party-girl tsukishima (it's the new fandom wave, believe it.) 

"Bro, bro, I have the _best_ idea." 

Bokuto's best ideas ranged from terrible to accidental genius, but Kuroo was a gambling man and he couldn't turn down an ace with a shit-eating grin. 

"Oh ho?" asked Kuroo. "Lay it on me."

"After curfew, we sneak out and go to a club"

"Uh-huh."

"And we take all the first years –"

"So far, so good." Kuroo knew those just-in-case fake IDs would come in handy sooner-or-later. 

"But we tell them it's middle-of-the-night practice. Like, that it's a tradition."

"Genius." That line would rope most of them in, no problem, some of those kids were so hungry to fit in that they'd do anything in the name of tradition. "One little problem, though."

"What?" Bokuto tilted his head and blinked at Kuroo owlishly. 

"What about Tsukki?"

Bokuto scratched his head. "Oh," he said. "Hmm."

*

To Kuroo’s shock, peer pressure worked. After roping the other teams in, they asked Karasuno. Hinata agreed readily, just like they knew he would, but he wound up dragging in Kageyama and Yamaguchi with a few excited yelps, and when Yamaguchi tried a ‘for the team’ spiel on Tsukishima, they got him, too.

“Mission accomplished!” Bokuto exclaimed, leaping onto Kuroo’s back.

“Yeah,” said Kuroo as he piggybacked Bokuto to dinner, but he couldn’t help feeling like something was up. That was easy. Almost too easy.

*

“Why are we lying to them, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“For the plan!”

“But some of them would probably come out dancing with us,” Akaashi pointed out. “We don’t need to make up elaborate stories.”

Bokuto hung his head. “Ah, Akaashi, can’t anything just be _funny_?”

Akaashi looked dubious, but he sighed. “Sure, Bokuto-san. I guess it’s not hurting anything.”

*

Lev and Hinata’s eyes were shining when the upperclassmen led them through the streets. They clutched their bags with their practice uniforms and looked excited enough to burst. “Are these secret courts?” Hinata asked.

“Or a beach!” Lev said. “A secret volleyball beach!”

“It’s not a secret volleyball beach,” Tsukishima said. “Right, Kuroo-san?” He glanced sideways at Kuroo as he looked for confirmation, and Kuroo swallowed at that. 

“Right, Tsukki.” 

“Please don’t call me that,” Tsukishima said. 

“Sure.” Kuroo slung an arm around Tsukishima’s shoulders, and was only a little put out when he was shrugged off.

When they finally reached the club, Lev and Hinata were still asking what kind of courts these were; Tsukishima rolled his eyes and held his hand out for his ID from Kuroo, and strolled inside while Yamaguchi gave Kuroo an apologetic smile and held out his own hand. 

“We kind of guessed where we were going,” he blurted to Kuroo, before jogging off after Tsukishima.

*

Bokuto and Kuroo’s jaws were scraping the club’s floor, which was pretty gross because who the heck knew what was down there? 

But there was really no other reaction other than surprise as they watched Tsukishima grind up on ten different strangers and several people he knew, too. Yamaguchi extracted himself from the crowd and jogged over to them, laughing as he pushed his sweaty hair off his forehead.

“I can never keep up with him!” Yamaguchi said. He shot Kuroo a grin. “Maybe someone else here could.”

“What – how – when –“ asked Kuroo eloquently.

Yamaguchi laughed. “Well, he’s always wearing headphones, you know? And they’re only mostly so he can tune out everyone. Tsukki loves to dance!”

“That’s nuts, dude,” Bokuto hissed at Kuroo, but then Akaashi and Lev started pulling on his hands and he was dragged out onto the dance floor, and he seemed to forget all about Tsukishima as Akaashi wrapped one arm around his middle and pulled him back.

Kuroo didn’t forget, though. “Oh,” he said to himself, and watched some more. The bass dropped on the song, just as his heart dropped into his shoes. Then his heart-shoe feet started moving toward Tsukishima almost on their own. 

A girl had her arms wrapped around Tsukishima’s waist, probably because he was too tall for her to reach his neck. Kuroo could reach his neck, no problem. 

“Hey,” Kuroo said to Tsukishima, whose eyes were closed as he moved to the music. “Hey!” he said again.

“Go away!” the girl told him, tugging Tsukishima closer.

“He’s fifteen!” Kuroo shouted back, making Tsukishima’s eyes fly open again and settle into one hell of a glare.

The girl rolled her eyes. “Sure, he is,” she said and backed off, shaking her head. “I don’t need this drama.”

“You’re lucky she didn’t believe you,” Tsukishima said. “You’re also lucky she wasn’t a very good dancer.” He was still moving restlessly, and Kuroo caught him around the waist and started moving with him. 

“I’ve never seen you like this,” Kuroo said.

Tsukishima raised his eyebrows. “There’s a reason for that.” But he put his arms around Kuroo’s neck and they got into a rhythm together.

Four songs later, Tsukishima pulled away, sweaty and red, but not as much as Kuroo. “I need a break.” He rolled his eyes and took his glasses off to clean them on the hem of his t-shirt. “This DJ sucks. Not everything has to be dubstep.” Then he focused his unobstructed gaze on Kuroo and smiled. “We’ll do this again later, right?”

Kuroo stared, wide-eyed, and nodded. God, Bokuto had _genius_ ideas.


	5. Tanatsuki, G, Fighting Dragons

**Pairing** : Tanaka/Tsukishima  
**Word count** : 625 words  
**Rating** : G  
**Prompt** : [this tweet](https://twitter.com/MessengerOfLaw/status/870515866516967425), from the FireEmblem.txt twitter account  
**Tags** : dragons, magic, my extra super-secret rarepair, tsuffering 

“Tanaka-san,” Tsukishima said, holding him back. “Be careful. We don’t know what this thing can do yet.” 

A ball of surveillance magic hovered between them, showing the dragon outside. It was a neat little bit of sorcery, really; Tanaka could admit that to himself, but he’d be damned if he’d ever say that out loud. Tsukishima’s personality was bad enough without adding a huge ego to the list.

Tanaka stuck out his chin and puffed out his chest, slapping Tsukishima’s hand away. “I don’t know the meaning of the word fear.” 

With that, he strutted outside, broadsword in hand, and thought about all the glory that awaited him once the dragon lay dead at his feet. The other knights would know his name and beautiful girls would swoon at his feet. Hell, they might even hold a parade in his honor. He was just picturing the congratulatory confetti fluttering gently down from the sky when the earth moved. Not in a metaphorical way; the earth was shaking underneath his feet. 

There was another loud thump, then another, and the dragon came into view. Tanaka gulped and held out his sword with a trembling hand.

The dragon ducked his head and blinked at Tanaka with large eyes. It was almost cute, this close up, though in a terrifying, pants-wetting kind of way.

“Nice dragon,” Tanaka tried tentatively, trying not to let his knees knock together. “Good dragon. Dragon wanna cracker?”

“ _GrrraaaaAAAA_!!” roared the dragon, and the last thing Tanaka remembered was the rush of flame headed right for him.

*

Tanaka’s eyes fluttered open slowly and he fought with his body, trying to make it move. He lost, remaining flat on his back. A white light floated above his head. So, this was what being dead felt like. He guessed it could have been worse.

“Stop moving,” Tsukishima ordered.

Ah. There was the worse.

The ball of light flattened and spread out, wrapping around Tanaka’s body in bright, warming ribbons. He probably looked like a mummy from the outside, but this was as neat a bit of magic as the surveillance ball. Tanaka felt warm and calm, like he was enveloped in his mother’s arms or in a real bath with steaming water, not washing from a basin like his usual routine.

“I warned you to wait,” Tsukishima said, but his words didn’t have their usual bite. He sounded warm as the magic, though a little bit shaky. Scared, maybe, or struggling to keep the spell going. “We didn’t know anything about that dragon, and she’s twice the size of the ones you’ve fought before.”

“Sorry,” Tanaka tried to say, but the ribbon magic pressed on his jaw and shut it tight.

“Stop _moving_ ,” Tsukishima said again. His voice shook some more. “Stop speaking. I’m trying to heal you.”

Tanaka blinked once for yes, and watched Tsukishima as another wave of magic burst from his hands, pouring over Tanaka. He could feel his skin healing itself, burned tissue giving way to itchy scars giving way to new skin. 

“That dragon was just guarding her eggs,” said Tsukishima. “You bald, impulsive idiot.” With that, the magic died away. Tsukishima swayed on his feet and collapsed on the bed, right next to Tanaka.

Tanaka stretched out an arm, good as new, though a little pinker than it had been. Then, he looked at Tsukishima.

Tsukishima looked almost peaceful now. He didn’t seem hurt, just fatigued from magical exhaustion. Tanaka pushed some hair off of his forehead, careful not to wake him. He’d had no idea what Tsukishima was capable of. He had no idea why Tsukishima had worn himself out like this, just for him, but as soon as Tsukishima woke again, he was going to find out.


	6. Hinata/Lev/Tsukishima, T, Lev Tries to Keep Up

**Pairing** : Tsukishima/Lev/Hinata  
**Word count** : 452 words  
**Rating** : T  
**Prompt** : “But we need his light, so we say ‘the Sun is important’, but come night we fall in love with the Moon. Because who would touch something and take the risk of getting burnt? Who would love something that hurts?" — S.Z. // EXCERPT FROM A BOOK I’LL NEVER WRITE #260  
**Tags** : lev's awakening, training camp 

“Hard practice today, huh?” Lev asks.

“I guess,” Tsukishima says. 

Lev jogs alongside Tsukishima and even though he has to be a couple of centimeters taller, he can’t quite keep up. It’s like Tsukki is trying to run away from him, which is so rude? Just then, a ball of orange streaks by, a tiny sun disrupting the night with its dazzling brightness, before it doubles back and skids to stop in front of them.

“LEV,” Hinata gasps, “I couldn’t believe that block you got on Akaashi-san today! So cool, like _pah_ and _zah_." He mimes blocking with his hands. "Wowee!” 

“That’s not a human language,” Tsukishima says. He cleans his glasses on his shirt and puts them back on, and Lev is kind of shocked to realize that Tsukishima is, like, hot. That’s not a thought he needs to be having at training camp, not when he’s still trying to get the basic rules of volleyball down. Lev has the height, but he doesn’t have the experience. With anything, really, but volleyball specifically.

Hinata matches their pace to walk with them, and Lev is dismayed to realize he has to jog to keep up with Hinata, too. First, the shrimp is the size of, well, a shrimp, and second, where is Karasuno going in such a hurry anyway? The cafeteria closed hours ago and the only place to go is to bed.

Lev shakes his head and stops where Nekoma’s staying. Yaku’s probably standing at the top of the stairs and ready to yell at him for shirking receiving practice, but receives are so _boring_ and it’s a pain in the ass for him to get low enough to do them properly. Yaku didn’t like it when Lev told him he’s more equipped for receives because of his lower center of gravity, either.

“Well, see you two tomorrow,” Lev says and waves. Both Tsukishima and Hinata stop and turn to look at him.

“Oh.” Hinata tilts his head, and his gaze is suddenly steely and intense. Lev is a little scared and a little turned on because he’s just realized that Hinata is hot, too. This is all too much, this late at night. “Were you leaving? We thought you were coming with us.”

At that, Tsukishima covers his mouth with his hand and laughs. “That’s some phrasing.”

Hinata’s face is back to normal again. “I meant it both ways!” he says, and grins before turning to Lev again. “Well, are you?”

And Lev is so confused, but he still follows them.

The next day, Lev still has the volleyball experience problem, but not so much the other one. He’s _really_ looking forward to practice in the third gym that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soveryaverageme podficced this fill and you can find that [here](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/24968.html?thread=15784072#cmt15784072). complete extra-loud lev and hinata voices, as is right and good.


	7. Ennotana, T, The Cactus Juice Incident

**Pairing** : Ennoshita/Tanaka  
**Word count** : 544 words  
**Rating** : T  
**Prompt** : Katara: You've been hallucinating off cactus juice all day, and now you just lick something stuck to the wall of a cave?! // Sokka: I have a natural curiosity.  
**Tags** : alcohol, wall licking, noya's kind of a dick 

Tanaka is Ennoshita’s friend. They’re definitely friends, they’ve been friends since they started at Karasuno. Tanaka still talked to Ennoshita even when he thought he was going to quit the volleyball team, and they almost always get along.

Ennoshita reminds himself of that for the fortieth time today as they head into hour two of what Nishinoya has already branded “The Cactus Juice Incident.” Noya got into Saeko’s stash and mixed everything together into a cup until it turned bright green, and then double-dog dared Tanaka to drink it, saying accepting dares made someone _manly_. So of course Tanaka did it. Then Noya, that fucker, had laughed and gone home with Narita and Kinoshita, leaving Ennoshita behind to clean up his mess. On Monday, that guy was gonna pay.

“Chikara,” Tanaka says, dragging himself across his bedroom floor so he can rest his head in Ennoshita’s lap, “you have the softest legs in the world. They’re like two muscular pillows. Thank you for lending me your leg pillows.” To punctuate this, he turns his head this way and that, his fuzzy hair rubbing against Ennoshita’s leg. Ennoshita grimaces. “Did you know,” Tanaka continues, petting the inside of Ennoshita’s thigh with his fingertips, “that if you concentrate hard enough you can see colors?”

“When was the last time you had water?”

Tanaka wrinkles his forehead up, and he looks so confused that Ennoshita isn’t sure if he’s trying to remember or if he’s just forgotten what water even is. Ennoshita sighs and pushes Tanaka’s head away, then gets up and goes to the kitchen for a glass of water.

When he gets back, Tanaka is kneeling on his bed, licking one of the pop idol posters hanging on the wall.

“Tanaka!” Ennoshita shouts and nearly drops the water glass. Tanaka turns his head and blinks at him sleepily. “Can we please not lick the walls?”

Tanaka tries to salute, but just manages to fall over. Ennoshita sighs and sits on his bed, helping him drink half of the water. “I just wondered what she tastes like,” Tanaka says a minute later, after Ennoshita’s helped him climb into bed and pull the covers up to his chin. He sticks out his bottom lip. “I have a natural curiosity.”

Ennoshita covers his eyes with one hand and laughs. Tanaka looks cute like this, and that’s not the first time Ennoshita has thought that. It isn’t just altruism that’s making him stick around to take care of his drunk friend. One might say that Ennoshita has a natural curiosity, too, and too much of it centers around Tanaka.

He feels a hand on his leg again, and unshades his eyes. Tanaka is looking at him now and petting his leg again. “What do you taste like, Chikara?” Tanaka asks.

Ennoshita swallows at Tanaka’s suddenly sharp expression, then shakes his head. “If you go to sleep now, you can find out in the morning.”

“I’ll remember that,” Tanaka says and closes his eyes.

As Ennoshita turns off Tanaka’s light and leaves his room to wait for Saeko to get home, he knows that there’s no way Tanaka’s going to remember that in the morning, but for a few minutes, he thinks about what will happen if he does.


	8. Tsukihina, G, Dark Star to Your Supernova

**Pairing** : Tsukishima/Hinata  
**Word count** : 507 words  
**Rating** : G  
**Prompt** : I always thought I was happy being the dark star to your supernova. ― Alec Lightwood, City of Heavenly Fire  
**Tags** : overuse of sun and moon imagery 

In their second year, Hinata gets selected for all-Japan training camp along with Kageyama. During practice Tsukishima says things like “Obviously” and "Of course he did," because they won the prefecture finals again and a lot of it was due to how serious Hinata had gotten, but inside, he's surprised over how much it hurts to be overlooked. 

Tsukishima leaves practice alone, careful not to stomp away, because Yamaguchi’s already shot him approximately fifteen sympathetic glances and he just doesn't feel like dealing with that right now. He remembers the conversation they’d had last year, Yamaguchi wary of Kinoshita nipping at his heels and how Tsukishima hadn't quite gotten his jealousy. More good servers means the team is stronger, after all, but now he understands. The more he lets himself care, the more being better than everyone matters. He wants Karasuno to win every match, of course, and they can't do that without Hinata. He knows that logically. But he also knows logically that they can't win without him. 

"Caring about things is a mess," he mutters to himself. 

"You should be going, too."

Tsukishima startles and turns around. It's Hinata, wearing a shrewd expression that looks wrong on his idiot face. Tsukishima rubs the back of his head and smiles. "I'm sure the All-Japan selection team knows better than you."

"Hey!" Hinata says, putting his hands on his hips. "I know you better than some stupid committee."

The fake smile on Tsukishima's face freezes there, but he lets his hand drop to his side again. "I didn't know you knew anything."

Hinata steps in closer. "I know a lot of things. I know you're a liar. I know that most of our successful plays were your idea. I know that if Karasuno didn't have you, our defense wouldn't be half as good. And I know that it feels awful if the people you like playing with get to do something and you can't."

Tsukishima finally frowns, his shoulders sagging. Hinata takes his hand and traces the lines on his palm. It's weird how natural that seems, how nice, how much of a relief it is whenever he realizes that someone new can read him like a block. "Well, what do you suggest I do?"

"You hide in my suitcase and we both get arrested when you're discovered." Hinata goes up high on his tiptoes and kisses Tsukishima on the nose. The very act makes him want to splutter and protest, and also makes him want more. He reaches out unthinkingly before forcing his hand down again. What a weird day. "Or you figure out some new plays for us, so we kill it at nationals. Kageyama and I will be ready for you when we get back."

Hinata holds up his fist and, after a second, Tsukishima taps his against it. 

"I'll make you regret that," Tsukishima says. 

Hinata's eyes light up and he grins wide, bright and intense as the sun. It almost hurts to look at but Tsukishima doesn't look away. " _Good_ ," Hinata says.


	9. Akaashi/Kenma, G, Captain/Not Captain

**Pairing** : Akaashi/Kenma  
**Word count** : 658 words  
**Rating** : G  
**Prompt** : Reality spilled out into the alley like water from an overfilled bowl—as sound, as smell, as image, as plea, as response. - Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle  
**Tags** : current second years as third years, training camp, oya? 

Akaashi had always been the realist on his team. It was impossible not to be, what with Bokuto-san being Bokuto-san. Some days he felt like his hand wrapped around Bokuto’s ankle was the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth. 

Which was why it was a surprise to realize he was surprised, the first day he showed up at training camp and realized Bokuto wasn’t on his team anymore. Of course, he hadn’t been for months by then; he retired after nationals and Akaashi had played a slew of tournaments with the new lineup since. But training camp was the first time he noticed how lost Kozume looked, and he felt like he was looking into a mirror.

“Are you sad you’re not captain?” Akaashi asked him one day in the cafeteria. He hadn’t meant to say that, he’d just meant to ask how Nekoma’s practices were going. 

Kozume gave him a considering look. “Are you sad you are?” he replied, and Akaashi didn’t know what to say to that.

Karasuno was as lively as ever, livelier maybe, since their captain this year was less grounded than Sawamura and more inclined toward encouraging the team’s worst habits. It was strange going up against them, Kageyama’s flat expression meeting his across the net. Kageyama undoubtedly had more talent than Akaashi, which made winning against them much sweeter. After, Hinata shook his hand enthusiastically.

“Do you want to come practice with us tonight?” Hinata asked. “Tsukki and I thought we’d get the training camp gang back together.”

“Stop calling me that,” Tsukishima said, but didn’t comment on Akaashi’s invite.

“I asked Kageyama to come, too, since we need more people!” Hinata said. “You should bring someone!” 

Akaashi thought of Kozume’s lost expression, and wondered if they really needed another setter, especially with Kageyama on hand, but decided it didn’t really matter. Practice was practice and it helped to rotate positions anyway.

“Kozume-san, would you like to come with me to an extra practice tonight?” Akaashi asked later, again in the cafeteria. He sat with Nekoma as though it was a normal thing for him, but no one commented on it.

Kozume wrinkled his forehead and nose. “I guess,” he said after a moment, and Nekoma let out a collective gasp. “Call me Kenma, though. We’re the same age, all the Kozume-san stuff is weird.”

“Okay, Kenma,” Akaashi agreed, rolling the name around in his mouth and deciding he liked it. “Keiji, if you prefer.”

Kenma tilted his head. “Maybe,” he said.

Practice was more serious and quieter without Kuroo and Bokuto there. Not much quieter, not with Lev and Hinata around, but noticeably enough. And Akaashi was more in charge than he’d expected, the only captain present and all of the second years looking to him for guidance.

“Oya?” he asked carefully, after a few minutes, and everyone stared at him until Kenma covered his mouth and his shoulders started shaking with laughter. 

Hinata grinned and answered, “Oya oya oya!” and Akaashi couldn’t help grinning himself when Tsukishima suggested kidnapping some unsuspecting first years.

After, Lev ran ahead to walk with Karasuno, leaving Akaashi and Kenma by themselves. 

“Thank you,” Kenma said, after a moment. “I didn’t know how training camp would go this year, but it hasn’t been the worst.”

“That’s good,” Akaashi said. His fingers accidentally brushed against Kenma’s then, but he did it again deliberately a moment later, and Kenma didn’t move his hand away. “Things feel different, don’t they? It’s stupid, but it didn’t feel really real to me until I got here.”

“I know what you mean,” Kenma said, tangling their fingers together. “But different’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

Akaashi realized how much that was true when Kenma stopped walking and kissed him, warm and slow, and now Akaashi felt like he was the one about to float away from earth. It probably wouldn’t be so bad having Kenma yank him back down.


	10. Bokuroo, T, Fukurodani Reunion

**Pairing** : Bokuto/Kuroo  
**Word count** : 455 words  
**Rating** : T  
**Prompt** : Kuroo in Fukurodani's reunion party with a glass half full of beer.  
**Tags** : reunions, futurefic, liberal use of the word boinking 

Kuroo felt like his face was about to collapse in on itself, he’d been smiling for so long. Bokuto brought him around to every person attending Fukurodani’s tenth reunion, introducing him every time as, “My boyfriend, Kuroo Tetsurou!” and Kuroo would grin and shake their hand and move onto the next person. 

Bokuto tugged him by his sleeve, over to a new group, but Kuroo shook his head. “Wait, wait, I need to get something to drink.”

“Okay!” Bokuto said, and changed course, dragging Kuroo over to the bar instead. They both got beers and Kuroo was so sweaty inside the suit he wasn’t used to wearing that he drank half of his in one gulp. He slammed the half-empty glass back on the bar, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and shook out his whole body, reviving himself. Bokuto stared at him while he did it.

“What?” Kuroo asked.

Bokuto ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up like it had back in high school. Kuroo smiled fondly at it and reached forward to flatten it again. “It’s nothing,” Bokuto said, suddenly bashful. He even scuffed his foot against the dance floor.

“Out with it.”

“You looked hot just then,” Bokuto said, shrugging. “It surprised me.”

Kuroo tilted his head and put one hand on his hip. “You’re still surprised that you find me hot? We’ve been dating for two years.”

“Found you hot for way longer than that,” Bokuto admitted, stepping forward to wrap his arm around Kuroo’s waist and tug him in. “I don’t know, I guess being here is just reminding me how much time I wasted on pretending our bromance wasn’t a romance all along. All those years I could have been boinking you!” 

“Baby, you know I love it when you sweet talk me,” Kuroo said, grinning and pressing their foreheads together. “Boinking, seriously? Who raised you?”

Bokuto’s grin melted into something serious, reaching up so he could stroke Kuroo’s jaw with his thumb. This was quickly turning into a pretty big PDA in front of an awful lot of people, but Kuroo couldn’t bring himself to care. He leaned into Bokuto’s hand.

“Are you having fun tonight, Tetsurou?” Bokuto asked. “Like, for real? You hardly know anyone here, aside from a couple of people I played volleyball with.”

Kuroo pressed their mouths together firmly, a perfectly acceptable public kiss, though he did lick Bokuto’s bottom lip for a second at the end. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?” Kuroo asked.

That was the best thing about being in love with someone he knew so well; no matter where they were, they were comfortable and they had so much fun together.

And then later on, the boinking.


	11. Ukai/Saeko, M, Stress Relief and Cigarettes

**Pairing** : Ukai/Saeko  
**Word count** : 1090 words  
**Rating** : M  
**Prompt** : Keishin outside the store with an unlit cigarette.  
**Tags** : sexual content; oral sex; smoking; did you know that the HQ official guide provides stats for nonplayer characters and saeko’s stamina is a 5/5? poor ukai’s only a 3, so good luck, buddy. 

Ukai puts his cigarette between his lips and fumbles for his lighter, patting down his pockets and the front of his shirt and turning up nothing. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, carefully, with the filter between his teeth so he doesn’t lose it. The lighter’s probably on the counter inside the store, but he just came outside and having to go back in is annoying. 

“Need a light?”

Ukai looks up and Tanaka Saeko’s there, in the neighborhood, he guesses. She grins as she flicks her cheapo disposable off and on, the flame a savior beacon for his nicotine addiction. He nods at her, grateful.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” he says as he leans in and cups his hands around hers so the wind doesn’t become another obstacle for his fix.

She shrugs and tucks the lighter back into her tight jeans. “I don’t,” she says. “Not usually, at least. But you never know when you might have to be someone’s savior, y’know?”

Ukai grins and puffs away, his mood brightening with every drag. “My hero,” he declares.

Saeko lets out a hoot of laughter and leans up against the wall next to him, shoulders back, chest out, and giving Ukai a pretty good eyeful from his taller vantage point. It might be a come on, it might just be Saeko being Saeko, but either way, Ukai’s okay with playing wait-and-see.

And it pays off. As soon as Ukai’s grinding the butt underneath his boot, Saeko jerks her head in the direction of the street and asks, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Sure,” Ukai says easily, calling into the store that he’s got something to do, which makes Saeko crack up. “Got somewhere in mind?” he asks her.

Somewhere in mind turns out to be her house, empty, which is good because Ukai’s not too hot on traumatizing Tanaka over this. Then, Saeko winks as she unlocks the door and bends over to pick up the mail, and Ukai reevaluates his traumatizing his players policy.

Saeko’s bedroom is small and messy, but the futon is clear and she doesn’t waste any time pulling her shirt over her head, unbuttoning her pants and shimmying out of them. “You, too!” she says, rolling her eyes. “You want a strip show, you’d better have some money to tuck into my g-string.”

Ukai does, actually, but gets with the program anyway, tugging his shirt over his head and shucking his jeans and underwear pretty quick. 

Saeko lets out a low whistle as she looks him up and down. “Not bad, Coach.”

He groans. “Please don’t call me that right now.” Ukai gets onto Saeko’s futon and lays back, watching appreciatively as reaches back to unhook her bra and pull it off.

“What, then?” she says, pushing lacy panties down past her hips. Saeko starts crawling toward him on the futon. “Ukai-san? Just Ukai? _Sensei_?”

At that last one, Takeda’s face flashes through his mind and he shakes his head violently. “Keishin’s fine,” he says.

“Keishin,” she repeats, and his name drips off her tongue like honey. His dick twitches visibly at that, and Saeko definitely notices. “Keishin,” she says again, lower, more drawn out.

“Come over here,” Ukai orders gruffly, so he can kiss her long and slow.

Saeko winds up on top of him, rolling a condom down over him expertly, lining him up and sinking down on him as soon as she can. She’s warm and slick and Ukai’s hips jerk up as the insides of her thighs touch his bare legs. That first thrust is usually Ukai’s favorite part of sex, like being welcomed into someone’s home for the first time, but as Saeko starts moving, squeezing him tight on her way up and releasing as she rolls her hips down, he remembers that being invited back is pretty nice, too.

Her rhythm is slower than he would have guessed, deliberately trying to draw things out as long as possible. Saeko leans forward, her hands on either side of Ukai’s shoulders and changing the angle, and Ukai gets his hands on her breasts then. They’re full and round and perfect and when he sucks a nipple into his mouth, she gasps sweetly and says, “Keep doing that.”

Ukai alternates from one to the other, trying out licking and sucking and biting, and it turns out Saeko likes all of it. She starts riding him faster and faster, and her gasps turn into moans, her moans turn into yells, and yeah, Ukai might have guessed she’s a screamer. She leans forward even more, trying to get more of his mouth, just as Ukai starts to feel himself unraveling. While he’s coming, he’s being smothered, and as his climax washes over him, he thinks _what a way to go_.

As soon as Ukai regains a little higher brain function, he growls and flips Saeko onto her back, pulling out of her. He gets between her legs and his mouth on her as soon as possible, spreading her out wide and sliding his hands underneath, so he can get his hands on her ass and tilt her hips up as he flicks out his tongue. Saeko likes this, too, and Ukai licks quick, quick, slow to start and breathes her in. He watches Saeko's face to gauge her reactions and change tactics to the ones that guarantee success, the same way he would midgame. 

Saeko, he can tell, likes that Ukai’s an innovator. She rolls her hips against his face and gets one hand on the back of his head, limiting his movement, and her moans work their way up to yells again. Right before she comes, one of her legs shakes uncontrollably. Then, she demands Ukai put his fingers inside her, and he’s only too happy to comply, and Saeko throbs around his hand while shouting his name.

When she finally comes back to reality and starts breathing normally again, Ukai’s face is wet and sticky, and his hair is loose. Saeko’s crushing his headband in one hand.

After they've cleaned up some, Ukai hunts around for his jeans and pulls out his pack of cigarettes again. This time when he offers Saeko one, she takes him up on it. She lights them both up, hers from her lighter, his from her cigarette, and they lean back against the pillows again, ashing into an empty beer can left in Saeko’s room, propped up in between them.

“Well, Keishin,” Saeko says, “seems like you had one hell of a smoke break today,” and Ukai grins.


	12. Tsukihina, G, Look Down You're Talking to Your Highness

**Pairing** : Tsukishima/Hinata  
**Word count** : 779 words  
**Rating** : G  
**Prompt** : Remix of [The Unavoidable Sun Fanmix](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11750208) by psidn  
**Tags** : shiratorizawa training camp, tsukki being tsukki 

***

**The Unavoidable Sun (Look Down, You’re Talking to Your Highness Remix)**

Tsukishima wipes his face with a towel and considers just dropping it onto the floor there. If he wants to keep being a hanger-on at Shiratorizawa’s training camp, Hinata “Ball Boy” Shouyou will have to get it without complaint and that’ll make Tsukishima laugh. But he catches Hinata’s eye for a split-second before he does it and something about his expression makes Tsukishima put the towel into the bin like he’s supposed to.

 _What a good boy you are_ , some voice in his head whispers, but that’s not it. Tsukishima just doesn’t like to make waves.

On the sidelines, Hinata grins at Tsukishima knowingly.

Tsukishima has blown Koganegawa off every time he’s asked if he wants to join the group for extra practices. At first it’s sort of liberating, no Yamaguchi or Kuroo or Bokuto or even Sawamura breathing down his neck about his slacking off. And he has a friend in lethargy, too, since Kunimi seems about as interested in practicing after practice as he does being set on fire. But it’s only freeing at first.

“Why are you even _here_ , Tsukki?” Koganegawa asks, frustrated, as Tsukishima walks off again, phone already in hand. 

Tsukishima ignores him and slips his headphones over his ears, but not before he hears Hinata knowingly say, “Ah, don’t worry about Tsukishima. He’ll come around.”

And, god damn Hinata, Tsukishima pauses. Thinks about how this is the only time Hinata’s allowed to play with them, how good it’ll feel to stop his quick, how much better it would be if Kageyama wasn’t so much better than them that he gets to go off to the national training camp – or maybe what Tsukishima wants is for them to be as good as Kageyama. Does it even matter? It’s not like that’ll ever happen. Some things are just impossible.

“Know your limits,” Tsukishima mutters under his breath, and walks away again. But it bothers him, later, when he’s alone in the guest dorms. 

There’s a knock at his door a couple of hours later, Hinata sweaty and out of breath. He’s grinning hard. Tsukishima looks down at him, but isn’t looking down _on_ him. He doesn’t know when that changed.

“Oi, Tsukishima,” Hinata says. “You got a shower I can use?”

Tsukishima lets him in, doesn’t even offer up a protest, lends him his _towel_ even. He knows this isn’t something he’ll admit to later, not even to Yamaguchi, but he somehow knows Hinata’s not going to say anything either.

“It’s too dark to bike home tonight,” Hinata says when he comes back from the showers, flopping back on Tsukishima’s twin bed in only his boxer shorts. 

“It’s plenty bright out,” Tsukishima says. “The moon is full.”

“I’m crashing here,” Hinata says, ignoring him. And then he grins at Tsukishima, his whole face lit up and scary, the way he does when he’s figured out an opponent and is about to spike them through the floor.

Tsukishima spends the night with Hinata next to him. It takes him a long time to fall asleep, too aware of Hinata’s sleeping form, but Tsukishima wakes up with Hinata’s face pressed to the back of his neck, his arm thrown over Tsukishima’s waist. In his early morning haze, Tsukishima thinks it’s kind of nice having someone’s body close like this, even if that body stops somewhere around his knees. It’s just him and Hinata and the early morning sun filtering through the windows.

Later that day, he seeks out Hinata – threatens him basically – and says that Hinata owes him. He hates that he needs Hinata so that he feels okay with practicing into the night with everyone from training camp, even though _Tsukishima’s_ the only one with a proper invite to the camp. But the idea of Tsukishima invading someone’s space uninvited is unthinkable to him.

Tsukishima and Hinata wind up on opposite sides of the net when Kindaichi and Koganegawa all want to try blocking Hinata. 

“Is this okay?” Kindaichi says to Tsukishima. “You guys are on the same team.”

Tsukishima stares hard across the net, watching Hinata tossing a volleyball up and catching it again neatly. “Solar eclipses occur at the new moon, when the moon is between the sun and the earth,” he says.

“Oh-kay,” Kindaichi replies. “God, no wonder Kageyama ended up at your weird school.”

Tsukishima adjusts the strap on his sports goggles. “I just mean it’ll be good practice. We don’t usually face off against each other.”

“Let’s see your broad attack, Hinata!” Koganegawa says.

Tsukishima smirks. _Yeah. Let’s see it._ I _want to see it_.

“Here I come!” Hinata says.


	13. Kuroken, T, Outside the Bunker

**Pairing** : Kenma/Kuroo  
**Word count** : 644 words  
**Rating** : T  
**Prompt** : Remix of [Kuroo worrying in the bunker](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/24808.html?thread=15643112#cmt15643112) by helwolves  
**Tags** : apocalypse, zombies 

Bokuto is jumpier now. Kenma knows they all are, even him, but it’s really obvious in everything Bokuto does. The way his eyes dart from side-to-side as they break into Kenma’s old house, the way he mutters, “Kenma, come on. Come on!” as Kenma flips through his stack of game notes, deciding which to keep, if any. It’s dangerous to be away from the safe house for long; Kenma knows this, but it’s like Bokuto had his whole heart broken by the end of the world. 

“Kuroo’s gonna kill me if I don’t get you back safe,” Bokuto mutters. “We got our rations, why are we here?”

“I’m safe,” Kenma says, not really answering the question. He doesn’t say, _but what about you?_ because he already knows the answer. They’re all safe, but not sound.

Bokuto gives a short laugh and runs his fingers through his hair. “You are,” he says.

Kenma stuffs a bag with his notebooks – he takes them all – and whatever other sentimental stuff he can grab: schoolwork, a volleyball, issues of Shonen Jump, Tetsurou’s old 3DS, someone’s kneepads (Shouyou’s? He’ll probably never see Shouyou again, even if they survive this. Miyagi’s just too far away, travel’s just too dangerous), a strip of pictures from the time Tetsurou dragged Kenma into a photobooth. Kenma had complained bitterly and then stolen them from Tetsurou’s mirror a year later.

None of this is necessary for their survival, but that’s not why Kenma wanted to come here. This stuff is necessary if they want to _live_. It’s funny how that distinction meant nothing to Kenma before.

Kenma shoves the bag in Bokuto’s direction, cocks his weapon as they make their way back toward the bunker, just in case they have to scrap. Kenma may not look it, but he’s the best at it – and his mother told him all those first-person shooters wouldn’t get him anywhere. He ignores the pang in his chest when he thinks of his mother and how she’s gone. The first wave of the disease had taken her, thankfully before it mutated into the shambling horror version. It’s that last wave that attacks the immune. The games were more fun when the zombies were fictional.

They make it back to the bunker without incident, and Kenma lets out his breath in a slow, steady _whoosh_ , a counterpoint to the hummingbird beat of his heart. But things seem normal again as they unzip their gear and distribute the supplies. Bokuto’s grinning now, bellowing out, “Hey, hey, hey!” and letting Akaashi put his scattered pieces back together again once they reach the inner sanctum. The guard at the doors has pushed a cup of hot chocolate into Kenma’s hands – he wonders how long they’ll still have that luxury.

Tetsurou is clearly feeling fifty different emotions at once, but Kenma’s nice about it, calling him _Kuro_ and letting him rifle through their presents. He breathes deep when Tetsurou presses his face into his sweater, and bites his lip when Tetsurou’s arms wrap around him so tightly that he can hardly breathe. If Yaku hadn’t mentioned the crying, Kenma would have pretended not to notice.

That night Kenma spreads the stuff from his house all around his futon and pulls Tetsurou on top of him, so they can lose themselves in each other. He knows there’s not much privacy, just the divider sheets, but Kenma knows how to be quiet. He can pretend his parents are just in the next room and when Tetsurou is whispering, “Is this okay?” it’s just because he’s nervous. Kenma can pretend that nothing’s changed, even though everything has.

Maybe Kenma doesn’t need this stuff, but he wants it. For a little while, he wants to pretend his biggest worry is whether Tetsurou will want extra practices before nationals. He just wants things to go back to before.


	14. Bokuroo, E, Gonna Do You Until I Get A Little Flag

**Pairing** : Bokuto/Kuroo  
**Word count** : 415 words  
**Rating** : T  
**Prompt** : Remix of [Want to do you until I etc etc get a little flag that says BANG!](http://sportsanime.dreamwidth.org/22249.html?thread=12571369#cmt12571369) by jessibot  
**Tags** : sexual content, bokuto-typical content, IT'S NOT OKAY EVEN IF YOU'RE IN LOVE 

Bokuto is wrung out. Like, he’s sweaty and sticky and sleepy and other words that start with s, and it’s all Kuroo’s fault.

Okay, so maybe it’s _technically_ all Bokuto’s fault because _technically_ he asked for it, but he just hadn’t realized how much stamina Kuroo has. They’d done it doggy-style, on the edge of Bokuto’s desk, up against a wall, in the shower, on the floor, Bokuto riding Kuroo, and then the other way around. They’d even gone ass-to-mouth (it’s okay as long as you’re in love). Kuroo made sure to get Bokuto off every. Single. Time. The last time his cock basically dribbled, and Bokuto figures that was his body’s way of finally crying uncle.

At least now, Kuroo seems to be done too, his arm thrown over his eyes with Bokuto’s honestly gross sheet pulled up to his waist. He looks pretty like this, all boneless, his hair somehow a bigger mess than usual. In another month when Bokuto can get it up again, he’s going to put this mental image into his spank bank.

As if reading his thoughts, Kuroo moves his arm and peers up at Bokuto, a slow, dirty smile spreading across his lips. And then – that fucker – he _licks_ them.

“Oh no,” Bokuto says.

“Oh yes,” Kuroo says, and then he’s up and moving, shoving Bokuto flat onto his back and pinning his shoulders to the mattress. He noses Bokuto’s jaw and bites his throat, moving his way down and pressing a line of slow, deliberate kisses all down Bokuto’s middle. When he’s about eye-level with Bokuto’s stomach, his hands now squeezing Bokuto’s hips with purpose, Bokuto yells out, “Bang! Bang!” and waves his arms wildly.

Kuroo licks right below Bokuto’s belly button. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks, mouth against Bokuto’s skin. “For really real?”

Bokuto narrows his eyes and lets out a frustrated breath. “No.”

Kuroo laughs. “Good.” 

And god damn it, his mouth is so _fucking_ talented that Bokuto feels himself start to get hard _again_. The human body is a miracle. Bokuto arches up and lets out a loud moan when Kuroo presses his fingers behind Bokuto's balls, the place that makes his eyes roll up inside his head.

Kuroo gives him a slow blink from beneath his lashes, staring up as he drags his tongue firmly from base to tip. Bokuto whimpers helplessly and wonders if this time a flag of surrender really is about to come out of his dick.


	15. Ushioi, T, Locker Room Awkwardness

**Pairing** : Ushijima/Oikawa  
**Word count** : 554 words  
**Rating** : T  
**Prompt** : midnight, n.: The longing hour, whether it’s for sex or love or simply sleep. (@loversdiction by david levithan)  
**Tags** : kissing, awkwardness, oikawa 

Oikawa looked at the clock’s numbers glowing twelve, groaned, and then threw his pillow at it. It fell to the floor with a satisfying crash. In five hours, he had to board a bus so his stupid travel team could get to their stupid match tomorrow, and all he was doing instead of sleeping was thinking about stupid Ushiwaka and his stupid mouth.

It had been after practice, and Oikawa was last out of the showers. He’d thought he was alone, so when Ushijima emerged from the row of lockers, he'd nearly had a heart attack. And honestly, Oikawa was far too young and hot to die from heart problems, especially in his towel on a gross locker room floor.

“Hello, Oikawa,” Ushijima had said, and Oikawa thought he’d bowed, too, because he was an enigma wrapped in muscles and smothered in awkwardness.

Oikawa had started hastily getting dressed then, feeling compelled to do a weird move where he pulled his underwear on underneath his towel. He didn’t know why; Oikawa definitely wasn’t a self-conscious person, but it was weird the way Ushijima just stood there, stoically, watching and waiting. He was just pulling his t-shirt over his head when Ushijima moved closer and sat on the bench in the middle of the room.

“I have a proposition for you,” Ushijima said, just as Oikawa pulled on his shorts and was forced to sit next to him so he could put on his socks and shoes.

“A proposition? We already play on the same team,” Oikawa reminded him. “Unless you just want to bug me for old times’ sake. In which case – don’t.”

Ushijima didn’t reply right away. He crossed his arms over his chest and then dropped his hands onto the bench and then crossed them again. Oikawa would blame his robotic moves on the formative years he’d sacrificed to volleyball, but Oikawa had done that, too, and he didn’t act like he’d been programmed.

“Not that kind,” Ushijima eventually said. “I noticed – well, I’ve been observing you for some time and think you might be attracted to men. Though perhaps not exclusively,” he added, after a moment. “I share that proclivity.”

Oikawa tilted his head. “You share that procli—holy shit, Ushiwaka-chan! Are you coming on to me?”

Ushijima nodded. “Yes.” And Oikawa was about to laugh, about to turn him down _forcefully_ , about to stand up so he could push Ushijima over the bench like they were in some schoolyard fight, but that was when Ushijima leaned in and pressed his lips firmly against Oikawa’s. Later, Oikawa blamed his surprise on the way his mouth opened while they were kissing, but he didn’t know how to write off the way he’d grabbed the front of Ushijima’s shirt and pulled him in. “Just think about it,” Ushijima said, once they separated, Oikawa blinking in wide-eyed, panting confusion. Then the bastard got up and left.

And now Oikawa was thinking about it, even though it was too late and such a bad idea for so many reasons. Because Ushiwaka’s stupid mouth was stupid good at kissing.

“God damn it,” Oikawa said out loud to no one. For now, he was going to lean into his thoughts, jerk off, and fall asleep. And in the morning, he’d give Ushijima a piece of his mind.


	16. Kageyama gen, G, Coming to His Captain's Defense

**Pairing** : Kageyama & Yamaguchi, Kageyama & Tsukishima (but mostly just Kageyama)  
**Word count** : 513 words  
**Rating** : G  
**Prompt** : Time(s) that they stood up for each other (with or without the other's knowledge).   
**Tags** : first years as third years, captain yamaguchi, kageyama gets so mad he forgets his milk! 

“I just don’t get it,” a girl in Kageyama’s class whispered over lunch.

There were a whole group of girls talking in hushed whispers, but they weren’t volleyball or his lunch, so he wasn’t really paying attention. 

“Yeah, it’s weird,” another said. “They’re a nationally ranked team, you’d think their strongest player would be captain.”

That made Kageyama’s ears perk up. The volleyball team was the only nationally-ranked sports club at Karasuno, but maybe they were talking about shogi or something. Kageyama didn’t know what status they had – he wasn’t even sure how people played shogi. Did it have tiles or little circles?

“Their captain doesn’t even start,” the first girl said. “You’d think Kageyama-kun would be the one in charge.”

Kageyama sat up straighter in his seat and a couple of girls tried shushing their leader.

“You know he went to the all-Japan training camp in his first and second year? I couldn’t even pick their captain out of a lineup.” 

A little bubble of anger formed in Kageyama’s stomach, the same one that did whenever he and Hinata fought, and he spun around quickly. The girl group froze, all wearing similar deer-in-headlights expressions.

“Oi,” Kageyama said. “You don’t know how to keep quiet any better than you know Yamaguchi. He’s a hard worker and he has good ideas, and he’s smart enough to know when to step aside to let the team shine, even though he wants to play. And he’s a lot calmer than me. We voted him captain unanimously, which you’d know already if you knew anything about our team. So—so shut your faces!” 

Then he sat down again, gripping the edge of his desk, feeling anger rolling around in his stomach and inside his head. He was so mad he didn’t even want to drink his milk.

Another girl came up to Kageyama’s desk; he couldn’t remember her name either, but she hadn’t been with the whisperers and she showed him how to use the quadratic equation once when they were split into groups during math. “That was nice, what you said,” she said. “No wonder the volleyball team’s so strong.” And that was when he noticed that all the other kids that stuck around for lunch were staring at him.

“Thanks,” Kageyama grunted, feeling his cheeks heat up, and stuck his straw into his mouth.

*

“So, King, I hear you’re defending your subjects’ honor now.” Tsukishima didn’t shout this in the locker room, or across the court. He waited until they were practicing blocks next to each other, some first year who probably knew better than to eavesdrop on Kageyama’s other side. Yamaguchi was across the gym demonstrating jump serves to two second years. “Thank you,” Tsukishima added.

Kageyama glanced over, trying not to look surprised. “Does he—”

“As far as I know, he hasn’t heard anything. News travels, though. But I won’t be the one to say anything.”

“Good,” Kageyama said. That was the way he wanted it, and maybe next time people wouldn’t be stupid enough to talk shit about his team.


	17. Sugawara/Asahi, M, Quit It Asahi

**Pairing** : Sugawara/Asahi  
**Word count** : 427 words  
**Rating** : M  
**Prompt** : [Quit fucking around!](http://i.imgur.com/ZqVDup7l.png)  
**Tags** : sexual content, desperation 

Sugawara didn't want to overthink his good luck. He'd found a secluded part of the park, a walled-in monument hidden under the shadow of trees, and he'd convinced Asahi that no one could see them there. Maybe that wasn't _completely_ true, but sometimes Asahi's hormones overrode his anxiety, and that was part of Suga's good luck, too. This way, it didn't matter that their families were always home and Daichi had gotten sick of walking in on them in the clubroom. And their kissing was always nice – really nice; Asahi kissed deep and slow, and Suga loved wrapping his arms around his broad shoulders.

But, well -

Sugawara really wanted Asahi to touch his dick. 

He tried telegraphing it, tilting his hips _just_ so, trying to rub himself against Asahi, but Asahi would step back and curl himself over like a big comma every time he did. And Suga was pretty flexible, but his hips could only thrust out so far. He'd tried more direct action, too, pushing up the hem of Asahi's sweater and tucking his fingers inside the waistband of Asahi's pants, but that just made Asahi whimper and jump back saying, "Suga, that tickles."

Suga had beckoned him back and they kept kissing and kissing with no end in sight, just like they always did. Asahi could kiss forever and that was so, so awesome, but just once, hopefully before they graduated, Sugawara wanted to walk away from one of their makeout sessions without chapped, raw lips and a set of blue balls.

Asahi broke away from one of their million kisses; he shoved his nose underneath Sugawara's jaw and tilted Suga's head up to suck a slow line of kisses all down Suga's throat. He put his arms around Suga, palms pressed to the small of his back and pulled him in tight. Sugawara stared at the sky and thought _this is torture_. Sweet torture, to be sure, but torture nonetheless. Then Asahi's dick, hard as a rock, rubbed against Sugawara's. 

_Yes!!_ Sugawara thought and tried to return the favor, but Asahi was already jumping away and covering his face.

"God, Suga, I'm so sorry," Asahi babbled. "Please forgive me, I just got carried away. You're really, um, hot and -"

Sugawara stared at him. He stepped in and gently pulled Asahi's hands from his face. Then, he grabbed Asahi by his ass and pulled him in, so their hips lined up again. 

"Asahi," Sugawara said, biting down on Asahi's bottom lip hard enough to make him gasp, "quit fucking around!"


	18. Kageyama & Ushijima gen, G, These Jokesters

**Pairing** : Ushijima & Kageyama, Oikawa  
**Word count** : 520 words  
**Rating** : G  
**Prompt** : [Have I ever made any wisecracks?](http://i.imgur.com/rMRd0An.jpg)  
**Tags** : bad jokes told badly, fluff piece magazine article format, please help oikawa please 

In recent years, Tohoku University’s volleyball team has reclaimed its former glory as a powerhouse university, thanks to its recruitment of Ushijima Wakatoshi, 21, two years ago. Now thanks to the nationally-ranked duo of Karasuno High School’s Kageyama Tobio, 18, and Hinata Shouyou, 19, joining the team, Tohuku’s team is stronger than ever. And yet, many say, the school has a publicity problem. 

“They say the members of the volleyball team are too serious,” Ushijima-san tells _Volleyball Monthly_ in an exclusive interview this week. Ushijima is the team’s captain, a starting wing spiker, and their ace. 

“We’re here to prove them wrong,” Kageyama-san agrees. Despite only being a first-year, he’s the team’s starting setter. Both players are serious about volleyball, but, as you’ll see, they know how to have a good time as well. 

We asked the teammates what they liked to do in their spare time. 

“Kageyama-kun and I like to tell jokes,” Ushijima-san says. “We’ve really been working on our repertoire and would really love to share a few of our favorites with your readers.”

Volleyball Monthly thinks you readers would love to hear Ushijima-san and Kageyama-san’s jokes!

“What do you call a group of unorganized cats?” Ushijima-san asks us.

We don’t know! What?

“A cat-astrophe,” Ushijima replies. “Ha ha. You see, it is amusing because the cats aren’t adhering to a strict organizational system.”

“That’s a good one,” Kageyama says. “Say, Ushiwaka-san, why did the volleyball court get hot after the game?”

Ushijima-san thinks this over for a moment before answering. This volleyball powerhouse sure is thoughtful! “I suppose because of the combined body heat of the players and the crowd, along with the prolonged perspiration that occurs during a typical match.” He pauses. “It’s also possible the air conditioning is malfunctioning.”

Kageyama-san looks momentarily confused, his forehead wrinkling up in thought. “No,” he says eventually, then, “I mean, yes. But also because all of the fans left.”

Ushijima-san smiles. “That is true, Kageyama-kun. All of the fans do leave after a match, which would cool the court and its surroundings significantly. Good one!”

“Thanks,” Kageyama-san says, though this reporter thinks he was still a little confused after that. But that’s all right! We still have time for one more joke.

“This is a combined joke,” Ushijima-san informs us, leaning in conspiratorially. “Ready, Kageyama-kun?”

Kageyama-san nods. “Knock knock,” he says.

“Who’s there?” Ushijima-san replies.

“Banana,” says Kageyama-san.

“Banana who?” asks Ushijima-san.

“Knock-knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Banana.”

“Banana who?”

“Knock-knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Banana.”

“Banana who?”

“Knock-knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Banana.”

“Banana who?”

“Knock-knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Orange,” says Kageyama-san.

“Orange who?” asks Ushijima-san

“Orange you – um,” says Kageyama-san, scratching his head. “Orange you glad you – wait, I know this. Orange you glad I’m a banana!” he concludes triumphantly.

Ushijima-san smiles. “Yes, I am glad you’re a banana,” he says. “Ta-da!”

“Ta-da!” Kageyama repeats.

Just then, Oikawa Tooru, 21, Tohoku’s vice-captain and reserve setter walks by on his mobile phone, “Kill me, Iwa-chan,” he says as he passes behind this reporter. “Please. Kill me before I kill both of them.”

Perhaps Tohuku’s volleyball team should just stick to volleyball from now on.


	19. Ukatake, T, FWB+

**Pairing** : Ukai/Takeda  
**Word count** : 655 words  
**Rating** : T  
**Prompt** : It’s easy to take off your clothes and have sex. People do it all the time. But opening up your soul to someone, letting them into your spirit, thoughts, fears, future, hopes, dreams… that is being naked. ―Rob Bell  
**Tags** : mention of sexual content, friends with benefits becoming more, adults failing at adulting 

Takeda tried not to give his thing with Ukai too much thought. They were work friends first, and then they were drinking friends, and now they were sex friends. There was a common denominator in all of these; Takeda had always been bad at math, but even he could see that.

“Before I forget, we need to talk about practice schedules for the first month back,” Takeda said, rolling onto his side after to put on his glasses again. The sex friend part of their relationship had really ramped up as volleyball season wound down and Takeda got his week and a half off for spring, but the new school year was about to begin and it was back to the grind. The other grind, that was. The less fun one.

Takeda froze as Ukai spooned up behind him, casually draping an arm over Takeda’s waist. It was crazy how good Ukai was at casual; there were all sorts of ways warm feelings and hormonal romps could get mixed up, but Ukai was already used to separating volleyball from his duties at the store from his duties on the farm, and Takeda admired his aptitude for compartmentalization. Takeda was trying his damnedest to keep up, but sometimes it was hard to push down those romantic feelings – especially when Ukai kept nuzzling at the back of his neck. Takeda closed his eyes and tried not to make his content sigh too obvious.

“Hey,” Ukai said, voice muffled by Takeda’s skin, “do you really want to talk shop right now?”

“Not really,” Takeda admitted with a little laugh. Ukai pressed his palm to the middle of Takeda’s chest and kissed his shoulder. Then his fingers started to wander. “Hey,” Takeda said, “we just finished. Give an old man a break.”

“You’re _thirty_ ,” Ukai said and pinched Takeda’s nipple. “Not an old man.”

“Not young, either,” Takeda muttered. 

He was thirty, it was true. By this time, he’d expected – well, he’d never thought a cute wife and kids were in his future, to be perfectly honest – but he thought he’d have more of a defined path by now. Though most of the time, he felt fine about it. He had a job he loved, students who looked up to him, and a sex friend hotter than any other man who’d ever paid him any mind. Things could be worse, things could be better. But maybe part of being an adult was realizing that was always true.

“When I was a kid, thirty seemed so far away,” Ukai said, voice still muffled into Takeda’s hair. “Now it’s just a couple of years off. By the time my dad was my age, he was already married and had all three of us. Isn’t that crazy?”

Takeda nodded. “My parents, too,” he said. “But I guess that’s the generation gap for you.”

Ukai, apparently lost in thought, had stopped trying to get Takeda interested again. He just kept petting Takeda’s stomach, fingernails scratching at the fine hairs below his belly button. “Do you ever think about it?” he asked, sounding a little hesitant. “Settling down, I mean.”

“Not the way most people do, I suppose,” Takeda said. “But yes.”

“How about –“ Ukai paused for a long time, then said all in a rush, “Have you ever thought about it with me?”

Takeda froze again. He had – he really had, and often, even though he kept those thoughts locked up deep enough inside that he’d never voiced them out loud. He never planned to, either, just thought he’d wait until the inevitable broken heart snuck up and ended this thing they had.

“Sensei?” Ukai said, after a moment when Takeda didn’t answer. Then, softer: “Ittetsu?”

“Yes, I’ve thought about it,” Takeda said quietly. “Have you?”

Ukai chuckled and pulled Takeda back tight against him. “Yeah,” he said. “A lot. Guess it’s time I ask you on a proper date then, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last one! thanks, saso, and thanks to anyone who reads these. :D


End file.
